


Home Advantage

by LiamNeedsom



Series: A Good Man is Hard to Find [14]
Category: Scarecrow and Mrs. King
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:54:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24934852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiamNeedsom/pseuds/LiamNeedsom
Summary: Don't discount friends or family - on the bad days, they're what holds us all together.
Relationships: Amanda King/Lee Stetson
Series: A Good Man is Hard to Find [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/514885
Comments: 7
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

Lee turned and clapped Beaman on the shoulder in a mock show of sympathy as he sauntered towards Billy's office door.

"Well, face it Beaman, now and then you gotta bend the rules to get the job done…" he said with a smug smile.

Beaman scowled and muttered, "In your case, quite a bit more now than then."

Lee didn't respond at first, feeling too contented that Amanda's instinct had been proved right as usual. He didn't even really react when Beaman brushed past him to go back to the bullpen, not until the younger agent turned around, still rigid with anger, and jabbed a finger in his direction.

"You aren't doing your pet project any good letting her act beyond her scope, Scarecrow! She may have been right this time, but she's not always right, she's not properly trained and she shouldn't be above following the same rules we expect every other rookie to follow!"

People around them went silent as Lee answered, "Listen, Beaman, I will tell you again – Amanda King is not one of your wet behind the ears kids! She has good instincts and she knows how to use them!"

"Because she's learned so much from your slapdash approach to intelligence work? See a rule you don't like and just break it? See a mission in Paris and just decide to invite yourself along for a free trip to Europe?"

At least one person in the rapt bullpen audibly gasped, but neither man paid any attention. Lee stepped in close, almost toe to toe with him and spoke quietly but forcibly.

"Amanda was sent on that job because she had skills and knowledge you'll never have, you buffoon. Dotty West didn't raise any fools, Beaman, and if you would just take that stick out of your ass, you'd be able to bend over, get on your knees, and thank your lucky stars that you have someone in your classes that is going to make you look like the best teacher in the world, because if she doesn't pass every single test you throw at her with flying colors on her own merit, I'll eat my hat!"

Beaman had stiffened in response to the tirade, but Lee had already turned away, stalking toward the exit to the bullpen, before turning and raising his voice so that everyone could hear him clearly.

"But in the meantime, I'll just go help my partner stick it to the KGB agents she correctly identified on a job that her trainer probably thought would just be a chicken feed assignment of no value. I sure pity that guy for so severely underestimating that situation – that won't look good on a report, will it? I wonder who it was?" Lee clicked his fingers sarcastically and pointed at Beaman. "Oh that's right – it was you." He gave a mocking little salute to the clearly discomfited agent and walked out of the bullpen with a satisfied smile.

The sudden noisy hum of conversation that broke out immediately was a clear sign of how avidly everyone had been listening, but Beaman was still standing silently, seemingly unaware of all the sidelong glances he was getting.

"Dotty West didn't raise any fools…" he repeated to himself. "That can't be…" He shook himself and finally looked around, turning red as he noticed for the first time the mix of smirks and sympathetic smiles aimed at him. He straightened up and walked out, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Usually she was there during daytime shifts but as often as she could manage, Dotty timed her hospice volunteer hours for at least one evening a week. She liked it for a variety of reasons. If Amanda was home, then it wasn't likely she had to rush back for anything to do with the boys and she could relax and spend as much time as she liked with her "boys." It didn't matter that most of them were adults; they were almost all the same age as J.C. would have been now, so to her, they would always be boys.

The evening visitor shift also gave her a better idea of who was getting visitors and who wasn't, since most people came outside of working hours, if they came at all.

That was the most important reason she liked to come in the evenings. It was in those darker quiet hours that they needed her, a mom to hold their hands and tell them that someone still cared about them. It infuriated her that so many of these men had been abandoned by their families just when they needed them the most, and when time was running out. How could a parent think their child was 'wrong' somehow? How could you raise a child from infancy and cast them aside because you disapproved of something as universal as loving another person, no matter who that person was? Or caught the 'wrong' disease – a disease that was going to erase them from your life as thoroughly as your spiteful hate desired? It had been like this for years now and Dotty still couldn't forgive those cruel families who had left their children to die alone.

In their place, she did what she could. She brought in flowers from the garden, she flitted from room to room telling funny stories about Phillip and Jamie, about the many ways her daughter drove her crazy and about the latest gossip on the seniors' dating scene. And she held their hands and let them tell her the stories of their childhood, of their lives Before This. That was always the demarcation, no matter what had gone on before, whether their families had been accepting or not, whether they'd been successful at a career or not, whether they had loved one person or a dozen, none of it mattered compared to the life-changing moment of a positive AIDS test and the death sentence that accompanied it.

So she tried to be there for those difficult hours of the day when they had just reluctantly admitted to themselves that probably no one would come today either, just as they hadn't come any of the days before. And while she concentrated on visiting with everyone who didn't have a visitor that day, she also made sure to stop and say hello to those visitors that did come. It made the boys happy to get to introduce someone who cared enough to visit, to show that they weren't entirely alone, and she enjoyed making those visitors feel special, because they were special – they were a tiny speck of decency in a society that was all too willing to shame people. Some of those visitors were young men, likely to end up somewhere like this as well, and she wanted them to know that, if that happened, there were people in the world who would care for them too.

She had stuck her head into Stephen's room a few minutes before, and found him sitting up, but alone. He was one of her favorites and they had become good friends since his arrival, but she didn't miss the hopeful look he'd given as the door swung open, nor the slight dimming of his smile when he realized it was her. It was obvious he'd been hoping for someone else.

"Hello, my darling," she sang out cheerfully as she walked in. "How are you? Can I get you anything? Amanda made one of her poppyseed cakes and I know there's fresh coffee made as well."

"Are you trying to fatten me up?" Stephen smiled tiredly at her. "You know I can never resist that cake."

Dotty eyed him carefully; it was obvious he'd lost weight even in the few days since she'd seen him, but she pretended not to notice. "Well, I'll get us both a piece and we can sit and have a nice gossip," she said cheerfully.

"Just a small piece," responded Stephen. "I'm not very hungry."

Dotty nodded and went to the small kitchen to fetch the cake and two half mugs of coffee which she over-sweetened on purpose, knowing that Stephen's sense of taste was probably compromised as well. Some days it was just a victory to get calories into them, no matter what it took.

"Here we go," she exclaimed as she walked in with the laden tray. "There wasn't very much coffee left so I just gave us each half a mug for now. I'll go back and get us more when the next one is finished brewing."

Stephen gave her a wry smile; he probably knew that she'd done it on purpose – given him just enough that it would be harder to spill if his hands shook while he held it, or if one of the inevitable coughing fits struck. "Thank you, Dotty. Now pull up a chair and tell me all that gossip you promised. But first… you've met my friend Ram before, haven't you?"

He gestured to the chair beside the bed and she realized that someone had arrived while she'd been in the kitchen, a familiar gangly young man with an embarrassed expression and a pair of glasses that looked like they might slide off his face at any moment; in fact, she thought with an inward chuckle, he looked very much like an adult Jamie would.

"Oh yes, hello, dear" she smiled at him. "You're here quite a lot, aren't you?"

She thought it was unlikely that Ram was his real name, but she certainly knew that a lot of the men she met here used nicknames as a protective measure.

"I didn't think I was that memorable," said Ram, uncomfortably as he stood up to shake Dotty's hand. "But um, yes, I try and visit when I can."

"Well, if you have a visitor, I shouldn't be here getting in your way," Dotty commented. "I'll leave you two to chat and check in on you later."

"Oh no, please stay!" Stephen's friend blurted out, then blushed. "I mean, I'm a terrible visitor. I never have any good stories because I can't discuss my work, and I can't discuss my social life because, well, because I'm me, I guess." He gave a wry grimace. "Please stay."

Dotty glanced at Stephen who was trying not to laugh but gave her an encouraging nod. "It's true – he's a bust as entertainment. I don't know why I'm always so glad to see him." He stuck out a hand and Ram instantly grasped it with a soft smile.

"Well, I guess I could stay a little while, if you really want me to," said Dotty, uncertainly.

"Oh please, Dotty, stay and tell me about what's up with your family. I tell him your stories all the time! Ram, tell her, she's so funny!"

"He does," said Ram, seriously. "He talks a lot about you and the other volunteers and how nice you all are. You have a daughter, don't you? Amy?"

"Amanda," Dotty corrected him. "You really have talked about us a lot, haven't you?" she teased Stephen.

"And not just because I don't have anything else to talk about," Stephen chuckled. "It's just that you guys are like my family now. You're like my second mom."

"Oh well then, I guess now I really do have to stay, don't I?" responded Dotty. "It's a mother's job to tell embarrassing stories to your friends. But it's also our job to feed young men." She passed her mug and plate to Stephen's friend across the bed. "Now you just enjoy that."

The young man stared down at the plate with a half-smile. "Poppyseed. I should have known."

"Oh dear, do you not like poppyseed?" asked Dotty.

"Oh no, I like it very much," he replied, flushing. "I just meant… I should have known Steve would get his favorite cake smuggled in."

"My daughter makes it," confided Dotty. "It was my son's favorite." She paused, a small break in her voice. "It was one of the few things we could get him to eat at the end – he always joked that the opium from all the poppyseeds made it a painkiller, but I think it was the love she put into it that made him feel better." She wiped a hand over her eyes and gave a little laugh. "I'm sorry – mothers are allowed to get a little foolish about their children, I think."

This time it was Stephen's turn to take her hand. "It's not silly at all. I wish everyone in here could have a family like yours. And maybe that's why it's my favorite too."

"I'll let her know you said so," Dotty smiled at him. "So she can make one for your birthday."

"Oh, I always tell her when she visits," Stephen confided.

"Your daughter is a volunteer here as well?" asked Ram, looking startled. "I don't think I've met her."

"Oh yes, when she can," said Dotty. "Her job keeps her so busy these days but ever since my son was here, we've both always tried to help out as much as possible."

"She must be really busy," commented Stephen. "There were a few weeks there where she didn't come in at all, but at least she's had time to make this." He held up a forkful of cake and grinned.

Dotty smiled back, not allowing even a flicker of emotion to show about how Amanda had been on the run from federal agents for those weeks.

"Did I tell you about her?" Stephen turned to his friend. "She came in after she'd been to the IAS conference in Paris. She told me a ton about what they're doing to try and figure out the virus and how to medicate for it. She said the doctors sounded pretty certain they'd be able to nail it down soon."

"The Paris conference?" Ram repeated. "So she's in the medical field, I guess?"

"Oh my goodness, no!" chuckled Dotty. "Amanda is terribly intelligent but science was never her forte! No, she went as an observer just like last year in Atlanta, but this time she went with some people from her work because they wanted to do a film. She works for a government agency that makes educational films, you know the kind of thing?"

Ram nodded as if he knew exactly what she meant.

"Anyway," Dotty continued. "They were doing a film on the conference and the advances being made, and of course, it made perfect sense to send her along because she'd gone to Atlanta and knew the ropes, you might say. "

"That does make sense," he agreed. "You must be very proud of her."

"Oh, I am!" agreed Dotty. "She's always writing letters to our congressman and helping organize fundraisers and things like that as well – I don't know where she finds the energy! I really don't!"

"She sounds very kind."

Dotty thought there was an odd note in Ram's voice but couldn't place what it was.

"Well, I like to think so," she said.

"Like mother, like daughter," said Stephen. "But tell us what you've been up to – it's been ages since I've seen you."

"Well!" said Dotty, eyes twinkling. "You won't believe what I've signed up for!" She paused for effect, then went on, "Flying lessons!"

Stephen burst out laughing. "Flying lessons? Are you kidding me?"

"Oh no!" said Dotty. "I realized I needed some adventure in my life and what could be more adventurous than conquering the wild blue yonder?"

"Wait a minute," Stephen narrowed his eyes at her. "I smell a man here."

"Why, whatever do you mean, dear?" responded Dotty, putting on a prim expression.

"You can't kid a kidder, Dotty. Who's the guy?"

Dotty gave in and began to laugh as well. "His name is Captain Curt…"

"Captain Kirk?" interrupted Ram in an incredulous tone.

"No, dear, Captain **Curt** ," Dotty laughed. "I met him when our seniors group did a behind-the-scenes hangar tour of National Airport. He owns a flight school and he made it sound so exciting! I mean, learning to drive was so stressful, what with all the traffic and the signs and the pedestrians, but flying! All that wide open blue sky and nothing to accidentally bump into! How could I resist?"

Stephen and Ram exchanged a speaking look, before Stephen turned back to Dotty. "And?' he prompted.

"And Curt is 6'2" with eyes as blue as that sky and a killer smile," she admitted. "He is also the most outrageous flirt I've ever met."

"Sounds exactly like a guy I work with," muttered Ram.

"Oh really?" said Stephen, completely distracted by this revelation. "And have you flirted back?"

"No," said Ram grudgingly. "He's straight."

"Now that's a pity," teased Stephen. "If he's a flirt, you wouldn't have to do any of the work." He turned to Dotty. "Ram is the worst at flirting. He is known as Crash and Burn among the cognoscenti."

"Oh! So you two aren't…?" Dotty asked.

"Us? Oh no, we're just friends. We met in high school," explained Ram. He smiled at Stephen. "Helped each other through that hell and we've been friends ever since."

"We've seen each other through the best of times and the worst of times," Stephen smiled back at him.

There was a moment of silence as all three of them were sharply reminded that they were definitely in the worst of times now. Ram reached out quietly and took Stephen's hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Dotty felt the prick of tears and knew she should leave and let them have their time alone. She made a show of checking her watch and then rose to her feet. "Oh my, I really should be getting on with visiting a few other people!"

She gathered up the plates and after moving them to one hand, leaned down to kiss Stephen on the cheek. "Now you behave and I'll come by next time I'm here. It was so nice to see you again, Ram" she went on, holding her free hand out to him.

Ram rose to his feet and shook her hand carefully. "It was nice to meet you properly as well. Thank you for looking out for Steve. And for everyone else in here, I guess."

"It's my pleasure," said Dotty. She tapped Stephen's cheek and gave him a fond smile. "I'll see you soon – and next time I'll bring pictures of Phillip and Jamie and their Halloween costumes – they're going all out this year!"

"No insult intended for your grandsons, but I think I'd rather see a picture of Captain Curt," teased Stephen.

"I'll see what I can do," Dotty gave him a wink and whisked out the door.

"She seems really nice," remarked Ram.

"She really is. The nurses told me that she was here every day when her son was in here and even then, she'd walk around and visit other patients, always doing stuff to cheer everyone up."

"Hard to believe anyone could be that nice," said Ram wryly.

"You should meet her daughter," said Stephen. "She's a freaking ray of sunshine."

"I can't tell if you're making fun of her or not" Ram responded, head tilted to the side.

"Oh no, I'd never make fun of her – there isn't a guy in here who doesn't like Amanda. She's sweet and she's bubbly and she gets it, you know? The nurses say she watched her brother go through this, coming every day to visit until the end and she still comes now. Those two are sometimes the only thing that makes a day in here bearable."

"Gee thanks," grimaced Ram.

"Hey, you know I mean other than you," scolded Steve. "But I hope you get to meet her one day – you'd like her. She's one of the good guys."

"I'm sure she is," replied Ram, squeezing his hand again. "I'm sure she is."

"So tell me about the flirty guy at your office. Is he cute?" Steve teased.

"I told you - he's straight," grumbled Ram. "And smitten, from the looks of it."


	3. Chapter 3

Amanda was sitting alone in the break room, a rare occurrence since Lee usually monopolized her free time outside classes, but today she hadn't bothered to go back upstairs. She was going over her notes from her initial contact with Zhmed to try and find anything she could that would help Lee convince State Department to let him stay in America. Lee had said there was some kind of shake-up going on in Soviet-American relations that might give them trouble but she just couldn't believe they would turn away someone who was so obviously frightened to return to his homeland. Obviously, first they had to get him back from his Russian captors, but surely then they could come up with something to help him.

As she highlighted things and scribbled notes in the margins, her other hand was kept busy, lifting her sandwich and her coffee in rotation. Lee had complained that they'd missed lunch again the other day, and it hadn't gotten any better with all the hoopla as they tried to help Zhmed and figure out what on earth had made Alexis Tolst bring him to America in the first place. He was obviously very smart or at least some kind of savant, but he was almost childlike in his manner in his enthusiasm for all things American. She had made him a grilled cheese sandwich that first day after she'd found him in the treehouse and he'd been as excited as if she'd made him a cordon bleu meal. More excited, she thought - he had watched the whole process carefully, then eaten every bite with an expression of pure bliss that couldn't have been faked.

She became aware that someone else had entered the break room. She hadn't looked up at first, but she had slowly realized that whoever it was, wasn't moving around getting their lunch out of the fridge or something out of the vending machine. She looked up to find Efraim Beaman watching her, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably.

She thought she knew why – more than a few people had approached her to tell her gleefully about his argument with Lee the other day. She hadn't approved – it sounded like a typical display of male one-upmanship and she hadn't appreciated being the unwitting subject of the whole thing.

And now Beaman was standing there looking like he'd rather be anywhere else, and she sighed internally.

"Hi there!" she said, infusing a certain amount of false cheeriness into her voice. "Were you looking for me? Sorry, I was so out of it trying to put this together for Lee that I guess I was ignoring you. Did you need something? Gosh, please tell me I haven't missed handing in an assignment or anything!"

"Oh no, you're always right up to date on getting your work done, Mrs. King," he said with a wry look. "I wish everyone in the rookie classes had your attitude when it came to that sort of thing."

"Ah well," she answered modestly. "It's just a side effect of being a mom, I think. You get used to juggling a lot of things at once and if you drop one, the whole thing comes tumbling down, doesn't it?"

"I suppose that's probably true," he agreed. He gestured at the other chair at her table. "May I sit with you for a moment?"

She nodded, wondering why he looked so serious. Well, more serious than usual – Efraim Beaman always had a slightly hangdog expression on his face as if he expected to be insulted at any moment. She had seen him smile occasionally though, so she knew there was a real person in there – just not one he generally allowed out in the workplace.

He sat down, resting his clasped hands on the table and staring at them for a moment before finally taking a deep breath and saying, "I owe you an apology."

"For the whole Flash Priority thing?" she asked. "No, you were right to question it – and it probably was overkill. I could have just called Agent Stetson or…"

"No, not that," he answered. "Although you are definitely the only rookie in my classes who could call a senior agent and have him come running, no questions asked."

He winced as he heard the words come out of his mouth and saw her reaction. "Forget I said that," he apologized. "That sounded much worse than I intended."

"No, it's fair, sort of," she nodded. "There's no denying that being partnered with Lee definitely has gotten me a boost up the training ladder that the others don't have. I can't really do anything about that though," she pointed out gently. "It just sort of happened that way and I hope I don't get any special treatment because of that."

"No, you don't. At least not from me. Especially not from me," he grimaced. "I know I've been harder on you than the other people in the class and that's why I wanted to apologize. I've been unfair and I let personal feelings get in the way."

Amanda's brow wrinkled as she tried to understand what he meant. "Personal feelings?" she repeated. She could only imagine he meant his crush on Lee, but he would never admit to that, surely, and she really couldn't be the one to clarify.

"I've been harder on you in class but I've also been unkind to you outside of it, and I've let other people…" his voice trailed off and he looked up at her with an embarrassed expression. "I've assumed a lot of things about you that have turned out to be very wrong."

"I don't understand."

Efraim leaned back and blew out a long breath. "When I first met you, you seemed like a perfectly nice woman…"

"And now I don't?" she teased him, because he seemed to be having real difficulty in spitting whatever it was out.

"Oh no, you do!" he answered instantly. "Just… let me try to explain, okay?"

Amanda nodded.

"You seemed, I mean you were this perfectly nice woman who worked for Scarecrow and the stories were crazy, you know? I didn't see much of it down in Fabrications, but when I finally got bumped upstairs, I heard all the stories."

"Oh I just bet you did," murmured Amanda, unable to help herself.

"And it didn't have anything to do with me, so I never gave you much thought," he went on, ignoring her comment, "and people seemed to like you and you were always very pleasant to me, but then…" His voice trailed off and he swallowed hard.

"But then?" Amanda queried. "Did I do something? If I did, it was unintentional – I would never-"

Efraim held up his hand to interrupt her. "You didn't do anything!" he said forcefully. "You just did your job and I…" He swallowed again. "I didn't understand. I didn't know."

Amanda spread her hands and gave him a helpless expression. "Well, I'm afraid I don't understand either."

"This summer," he began again. "When you were sent to Paris, with Francine, I thought it was just because of being Scarecrow's pet," he blurted out. "It pissed me off."

"Oh, I see," said Amanda, sitting back in her chair and absentmindedly taking a sip of her coffee. "I can see why that would annoy you. But I think you should know Mr. Melrose well enough to know he wouldn't send me anywhere just as some kind of reward."

"I should have known that," he agreed, "but I was too angry to see that. And it really shouldn't have bothered me at all. I mean, obviously agents were going to be assigned and it's not like it would have been me, but when I heard it was you, I just…"

"Because I'm not a real agent," Amanda nodded with understanding.

"No! I mean, yes, I just…" He lifted a hand and rubbed it across his face. "Yes, because you weren't an agent but also because of where you were sent."

"Paris?" Amanda's brow crinkled. "I'd been sent to Europe before, you know. Once without even knowing it was the Agency sending me!"

"No, not Paris," he said, miserably. "The conference."

"The conference," she repeated. "Oh!" she exclaimed as understanding dawned. "You thought someone with more experience should have gone."

Efraim nodded. "It seemed so ludicrous, you know? To send some civilian trainee to take part in an international AIDS conference as if she had any right! As if she'd have any clue about what it's like – the watching, the waiting, the grief – how unbearable it is to be so helpless." His voice broke and he stopped to gulp in a gasping breath.

"I see," she replied. And she did see, saw how it would have looked to outsiders, saw how she'd been so caught up in it at the time that she hadn't understood that.

"No you don't," Efraim went on. "All I saw was this nice suburban mom who was being given a trip to Paris and probably thought the conference was just an annoying thing she had to deal with in between trips to the Eiffel Tower and sipping coffee in a sidewalk café!"

"But that's not true!" She began to defend herself. "I was working, just as hard as Francine!"

"I know that now," he agreed. "And we all heard the stories afterward. It was just that-" He looked up and met her eyes, still seeing the confusion there. "Billy kept saying you had an excellent background for that cover, and I thought he was just making that up so no one would question you being there. I thought he thought all your experience with Scarecrow was enough and I didn't realize…"

Amanda nodded, with sudden comprehension. "You didn't realize he meant personal experience."

Efraim nodded.

"Well, to be fair, why would you?" she asked in a reasonable tone. "It's not exactly the kind of thing you mention, is it? I've certainly kept it under wraps that I've had any experience with AIDS."

He couldn't keep himself from reflexively looking around to make sure no one had heard her, before shaking his head. "No, especially not around here."

"And yet, somehow you found out," she said, tilting her head to look at him. "Should I be concerned about a privacy leak?"

"Not the kind you're thinking of." He permitted himself a tiny flash of smile. "I met your mother last night. I mean, I'd met her before, but I didn't realize until yesterday that she was your mother."

"You met my mother?" she asked, then a beat later. "Oh! Of course! She was volunteering last night, wasn't she?"

"You don't seem very surprised," he said.

"That's because I'm not," she answered. "I've seen you at the hospice before, visiting with Stephen."

"You have?" Efraim was shocked. "And you didn't say anything?"

"I didn't think you'd like it if you thought people knew," she shrugged. "So I just stayed out of your way."

Efraim looked too stunned to respond for a moment but finally managed to find his tongue again. "You're right, I would have had a heart attack if I'd met you there suddenly. But you never said anything to me, even when you joined my classes."

"It wasn't any of my business and besides, if I'd brought it up here, wouldn't your first thought have been that I was going to hold it over you?" Amanda asked. "Trying to blackmail you for good grades?"

"Probably," he agreed, "Working here tends to make you suspicious of other people's motives." He couldn't help a small smile as Amanda rolled her eyes in agreement. "So you've seen me there, visiting Steve," he said, "So you must think… you must _know-_ " he corrected himself. "That I'm…"

"I know you're a good friend," she said quickly. "And a good person."

"And that I'm… you know," he said quietly, with a glance around to make sure no one could hear him say even that.

"None of those are mutually exclusive," she pointed out. "But yes, I did."

"Because of Steve," he said with resignation, staring at his hands.

"Mm," she responded noncommittally.

Efraim's head came up and he stared at her. "What did that mean?"

"What did what mean?" she asked.

"That noise, that little 'mmm' noise," he answered. "Like it wasn't Steve that told you."

"Steve didn't tell me," she answered back. "I saw you at the hospice and I'd seen-." She bit back what she was about to say.

"You'd seen what?" he accused her.

Amanda shrugged. "I'd seen the way you look at Lee."

Efraim recoiled. "What? I don't!"

"Yeah, you do," she smiled at him. "But no one but me would notice. And even then, only because I see it all the time." She leaned in, smile widening. "It's the dimples, isn't it? Join the club."

He dropped his face in his hands. "Oh God. Am I that obvious?"

"Not at all," she reassured him. "I just caught you a few times, that's all."

There was a beat and then he raised his head, relaxing slightly when he saw she was still smiling. "How can it not bother you?" he asked, in a tone of wonder. "Aren't the two of you…?" he didn't finish the sentence, suddenly not sure what their relationship was.

Amanda waved a hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter what we are or aren't. This building is full of women who all stare at Lee like they'd like to eat him alive. I don't even notice anymore and neither does he. Or if he does, he doesn't care."

Efraim looked horrified. "Are you sure he hasn't noticed that I…?"

"Oh no," she said, all reassurances. "Like I said, he's pretty oblivious to it all unless he needs something." She paused then went on, "But he knows he gets those looks from men too. It doesn't bother him, any more than he minds about the girls doing it. He's… well, he's just a very good man."

"Uh huh," said Efraim disbelievingly. "My life has been one long set of proofs that straight men absolutely do not like it if they think another man has that kind of interest in them."

Amanda shrugged again. "You don't really think he's never been hit on, at all those cocktail parties and diplomatic receptions? Believe me, he's seen it all and to Lee, it's just a fact of life."

"Are you going to tell him?" asked Efraim desperately.

"Of course not," Amanda reprimanded him. "Like I said, it's none of my business. But I will give you a piece of advice if you don't mind."

"Keep it better hidden?" he said with some bitterness.

"Actually, I was going to say you should find someone at the Agency to confide in, someone like Mr. Melrose."

"Are you crazy?" Efraim recoiled from her. "My career would be over if I did that!"

"No, your career would be a lot safer," she corrected him. When he stared at her and shook his head, she went on. "Think about it – if no one knows about it, it makes you susceptible to blackmail, isn't that the theory? iI mean, that's why I didn't say anything about seeing you at the hospice - because it wuld frighten you"

He swallowed and nodded.

"So if it wasn't a secret, or at least not a secret from Mr. Melrose, then there'd be no leverage for that, would there?" she asked reasonably.

"He'd never listen – he'd have me out on my ear first," Efraim retorted.

"No, he wouldn't," Amanda shook her head. "Now look, I know better than most people that he can be gruff but he's a good man, and wouldn't it be better to have him on your side than not? I think he'll surprise you – I really do."

Efraim shook his head. "You're crazy."

"I'm not!" she said firmly. "He was nothing but kind about my brother and he's kept that quiet too. In fact, until that Paris thing came up, he never even told me he knew about J.C. Believe me, if he knows, it makes it easier for him to protect you – that's just logical." She left out the fact that she knew Billy had a set of private files for just such a purpose.

He leaned in, speaking quietly but forcefully. "That's not the same thing! Of course, he can be kind to you - you're not **gay** , you just knew someone who was. Someone who's…" he caught himself then went on "who's not here. You can't be blackmailed for that, you're not going to be shunned for that. It's not the same."

"No, I guess it's not," she agreed quietly. slumping back in her chair

"I'll think about it," said Efraim finally.

Amanda nodded, aware it would take him some time to see the sense in what she was saying.

There was a long silence and then Efraim gave a snort of laughter.

"What?" she prodded him.

"You know, when I sent you on that class assignment to go check on fake passports, I picked you because it was supposed to be this stupid little demeaning job. You'd have to go handhold some guy none of us had ever heard of and you'd be so bored - I thought you'd see that this work isn't all guns and car chases."

Amanda gave a snorting giggle. "Oh, I wish that was true," she said in a tone of fake despair. "The stories my poor car could tell you."

Efraim grinned back at her. "And instead, you did such a perfect Class C interrogation that it's turned into a manhunt for one of our most wanted KGB operatives!"

Amanda shrugged with self-deprecation. "It happens to me a lot. You'll get used to it."

"And now in less than five minutes, you did a perfect Class C on me and uncovered all my deepest secrets," he added. "I've really been underestimating you."

"So do I get an A then?" she asked, eyes twinkling.

"I'd have to be a real jerk to say no now, wouldn't I?" he answered.

Amanda smiled and reached to pat his hand where it rested on the table. "You know, if it makes you feel better, I never did get to see the Eiffel Tower."

Efraim barked out a laugh. "You know, that does make me feel better." He gave her a quick grimace. "Sidewalk café though?"

Amanda thought back to her day out with Lee at Giverny. "I'm afraid so," she admitted. "But then again, also a day in the sewers, so…" she drifted off with a tiny shrug.

"And days inside that conference," he added. "Listening to endless scientists rambling on?"

"Oh no, that was really interesting!" she said.. straightening up, her eyes brightening. "I almost forgot it was supposed to be work!"

"I actually believe you," he replied, shaking his head with amusement. "Maybe you could tell me all about it sometime?"

"I'd be happy to," Amanda promised. "But right now…" she waved her hand over her notes.

"What is all this anyway?" he asked, taking in her piles of file folders for the first time. "Not classwork?"

"This? Oh I'm just trying to figure out a way to let Zhmed – that's our Flash Priority guy - stay here once we rescue him again. He's so afraid of going back to Russia," she said, sadly. "It would be a lot easier if we could make sense of whatever it is that Tolst fellow wants from him."

"Would you mind if I took a look?" he asked, a little bit embarrassed. "He sounds a little bit like me – nerdy, you know? I'd like to make it up to you if you want help."

"You don't need to make anything up to me," Amanda scolded him gently.

"No, I do," he said. "I do," he repeated forcefully when she looked like she'd disagree. "Please let me help," he asked, more quietly now.

"Okay," Amanda smiled at him. "I know Mr. Doorlof would welcome the help."

Francine appeared in the doorway. "Efraim, why are you bothering Mrs. King? She is not in class and I know she's up to date on her assignments."

"Oh Francine, stop," Amanda waved her off before Efraim could answer. "Mr. Beaman and I were just discussing how maybe my next class assignment could be a little more exciting."

"A little more exciting?" said Francine, voice rising. "A little more exciting than trying to outmaneuver the KGB?"

"And driving into a piano," murmured Efraim. "I'm sure she could do better next time, if she'd just learn how to perform a pursuit properly."

"I still can't do a bootlegger turn," said Amanda. "Thank heavens I hardly ever have to do the driving."

"Glad to hear Scarecrow isn't teaching you bad habits before you can do the proper training," said Efraim. "The stories Leatherneck tells about the damage he does to his car…"

Francine opened her mouth to begin roasting him before realizing both of them were watching her, lips twitching and in apparently perfect accord with each other.

"Well, aren't you two just the class clowns? But Amanda? We've got Zhmed's note as clear as we can. Can you come do your voodoo thing?"

"My voodoo thing?" Amanda repeated with a broad smile.

Francine waved her hands. "You know, that thing where you see stuff the rest of us don't?"

Still laughing, Amanda stood, carefully disposing of the remains of her lunch before turning to Efraim. "Looks like we're up." She paused as he stared back at her. "If you still want to help, I mean."

"What?" interjected Francine. "Why are you horning in on this, Beaman?"

Amanda gave her a disapproving look. "Because he wants to help. Are you willing to turn down help at this point?"

Francine sniffed and gave him a snarky look. "Fine."

Efraim cleared his throat. "I, uh, actually have a computer program I've been working on to pull info from different sources. Maybe I could run what you have through that and see if it helps?"

"What have we got to lose?" asked Francine with a grimace.

"You bring your voodoo, I'll bring mine," said Amanda over her shoulder as she left the breakroom.

Before Efraim could follow her, Francine whirled and jabbed a finger into his chest. "Don't think for one second I've forgotten that you were in on that transcript thing! If I see you do even one move to undercut Amanda or Lee again, you will pay – is that clear?"

Efraim gulped. "Crystal clear. And Mrs. King and I have talked. I won't be underestimating her again."

"See that you don't," Francine hissed at him. "And while we're at it, just because I'm letting you help on this does not mean I have the slightest interest in being around you, do you understand? No wandering hands, no flirty remarks – just do your work and stay out of my way!"

"Absolutely," agreed Efraim.

"Really?" asked Francine suspiciously.

"Really. And for the record, I'm sorry about the transcript thing. I was just trying to be one of the guys, you know?"

Francine glared at him. "That transcript almost landed Lee Stetson in prison, so maybe next time, try and remember that it's better to be one of the team than one of the guys!"

"Yes ma'am," he agreed.

"And don't call me ma'am!" she snarled.

"No ma'am," he said, then grimaced.

Francine gave him one last glare, trying to decide if he was being purposefully annoying, before deciding to take pity at his hangdog expression. "Well, come on then, come and dazzle us with this computer thing," she ordered, walking out of the room.

"Yes ma'am," Efraim muttered under his breath, and followed her.


	4. Chapter 4

"I may be sleepy, but I'm not dead," Amanda smiled up at him tiredly, pulling him in for a kiss.

His kiss was gentle and loving and then Lee sat back on his heels, grinning down at her. "Are you really too sleepy for dinner or should I be putting you to bed?"

The way his eyes danced told Amanda he'd meant it to sound exactly as flirtatious as it sounded. She reached to pull him in again, then grasped his shoulder to pull herself upright. "No, I'm not too tired to eat. Especially not when it smells so amazing."

Lee straightened up and helped her to her feet, dropping one last kiss on her lips before grabbing the champagne glasses and leading the way to the table. After helping her into a chair, he walked around the table and began to dish up the promised frittata.

"Did you even hear anything I said about how I made this?" he teased her.

"No," she admitted. "But it smells even better up close." She leaned in and inhaled happily.

"Bon appetit," he toasted her, then waited for her to try her first forkful. Her look of bliss had him beaming and he quickly dug into his own plate, savouring the flavors as they danced on his palate.

For a moment, they ate in companionable silence, enjoying the meal and each other's company, before Amanda paused to take a sip of her wine and lean back in her chair.

"This is such a nice change," she said. "A proper meal at home instead of eating takeout over case notes."

"That doesn't sound like a very high bar," Lee grinned at her.

"Oh no! I didn't mean it that way!" she exclaimed, before he began to laugh. "I just meant, well, it's just nice to have some time to slow down and appreciate a beautifully made meal without anything hanging over us."

Lee reached out to take her hand across the table and gave it a light squeeze. "I know exactly what you mean," he answered. "Evenings like this make the other days easier, don't they?"

Amanda nodded, pleased that he understood. Her eye was caught by something on the far wall. "Is that new?" she asked, gesturing toward the painting, a landscape .

Lee twisted to see what she was looking at. "Sort of," he said, turning back to face her. "I found it in the storage unit with a bunch of other stuff from my parents."

"It's lovely," she said. "I wonder if that castle is a real place."

"I'm not entirely sure," he admitted, "but do you ever have that moment where you've forgotten something for years and then it all comes rushing back to you when you see a reminder?"

Amanda nodded. "You remember this?"

Lee nodded back. "I think it's a painting of where my mother grew up in England or at least somewhere she knew. When I saw it again, I could remember her telling me stories about it, about when she was a little girl."

Amanda was silent for a moment, then said, "I guess she missed home, huh? Even though she had you and your dad, you can't help missing the place you grew up."

"I wouldn't know," remarked Lee with a wry smile.

"Oh Sweetheart, I'm sorry, I didn't think!" she exclaimed.

"It's alright, Amanda. I think I told you once, you can't miss what you don't know. I saw some amazing places growing up the way I did, and I can't ignore all that just because of the way it happened." He caught a glimpse of something on her face. "What's the matter?"

"I was just thinking about Zhmed," she admitted. "He's lost his home country, he doesn't have family here - he must feel so alone."

Lee nodded. "Yeah, it's going to be tough for him. But on the other hand, he may have an easier time of it getting his family here now because the Soviets will be on the backfoot with us having caught Tolst red-handed."

Amanda let out a happy sound. "Do you really think so?"

"I do. I asked Pat Danley to unofficially let his counterpart in the Kremlin know that it would be seen as an excellent gesture on their part to allow his family to join him."

"Unofficially?" she repeated.

"That's usually the best way with these things," he answered. "Sort of a Class C interrogation way of applying pressure." He lifted his glass and toasted her with a grin.

"I really hope so," said Amanda. "He just seems so… I don't know… lost, I guess?"

Lee gave an understanding smile. "He is a bit of an odd guy, isn't he?"

"Well, I think we're all odd in our own way," said Amanda defensively, then gave a wry smile. "But yes, he's odder than most. I hope he'll be okay."

"I think he will," replied Lee. "Apparently there's a lot of interest in him from a lot of the universities who were aware of him even before this from their Soviet counterparts. I hear even NASA reached out to our contacts at State Department to get in contact with him."

"So he'll be safely among people who understand him?" she smiled with relief.

"Yep, he'll be free to pick where he wants to go - although I expect the government will want to have first dibs on him," Lee grimaced. "Democratic or communist, doesn't matter - governments are never that different."

"Except he won't be doing anything under duress though with our government," Amanda said, thoughtfully.

"That's true," Lee acknowledged. "You do always find the silver lining don't you?"

"Like you once said, it's no business for a pessimist," she smiled at him.

"Speaking of pessimists, I was surprised Beaman volunteered to help look after Zhmed until he gets settled," Lee remarked.

"I thought it was very kind of him," Amanda reprimanded him lightly.

"Oh, it is," Lee agreed. "But I'm still surprised such a jerk has a soft side."

"He's not a jerk!" Amanda defended him, but grimaced when Lee raised his brows in disbelief. "Okay, yes, he's not the easiest person to get along with, but I think he's just a little like Zhmed - a little different and he finds it hard to find his place sometimes."

"Maybe if he wasn't so busy trying to keep other people from being in theirs…" Lee grumbled.

"He apologized to me for that actually." Amanda had to smile at Lee's look of surprise. "And he did volunteer to help with the computer program that let us figure out what was going on. And he volunteered to help with the rescue mission."

Lee held up his hands in defeat. "Okay, okay, he's a saint! Are you happy now?"

"Perfectly," she dimpled at him. "Honestly, Sweetheart, he's not a bad guy. He just had some preconceptions about me and he's over that now. Sort of like some other people I know."

"Touché," Lee replied.

"And I think he sees a little of himself in Zhmed," she went on. "He's kind of a loner, a bit of an outsider, maybe someone who doesn't always think people want to really know him, afraid to show people what he's really like..."

"You're killing me here," said Lee, plaintively, before finally meeting her smile with one of his own.

"Aw, Lee, you know I'm teasing," she reached out and rested her hand on his. "But you know what I mean - it's hard to be different or misunderstood or to not be able to share parts of your life with people you care about."

"You're right - as usual," he answered. "When I was Beaman's age-"

"Because you're such an old man now," Amanda murmured, making Lee snort with laughter.

"I was 23 when I joined the Agency," he started again, "And coming out of intelligence work in 'Nam, it was so different from what I was used to, in so many ways."

"Because you were used to doing things the army way?" she asked.

Lee nodded. "That and the fact that I'd gotten used to sticking out like a sore thumb over there. Back here, I was just another guy, but I'd spent my life adapting to any situation. I was a new guy with every new school but I was never myself. Hell, I'm not sure I even knew if I had a 'myself."

"Like a chameleon," Amanda nodded. "That's come in handy in spy work though."

"Another silver lining?" he teased. "You're on a roll tonight."

Amanda let out a small snort of laughter. "It's hard not to be optimistic when the food is so good," she twinkled at him.

Lee toasted her in thanks for the compliment, then went on. "You know, now that I think of it, I think maybe this type of work attracts outsiders. Harry started the place because he was too much of a maverick to deal with the old-time law enforcement guys. Paul developed the Oz network with an approach no one had seen before. When I got to this job, it was like finding exactly where I belonged."

"You think I'm an outsider?" Amanda quizzed him with a laugh.

"I think so, yes," he nodded, with a serious expression. "You didn't seem like the kind of person who would end up in this line of work, but look at you now."

"I suppose that's true," she agreed.

"And I guess I should cut Beaman some slack," he went on. "When I think back to what a jerk I probably was, trying to prove myself at that age, I probably pissed people off too."

"He really is nice when you get to know him,"Amanda responded encouragingly. "I mean, I think he's really found his niche now with the computer work - it suits him much better than Fabrications. And he is a good teacher - I mean, if he can get under your skin enough to throw you off your game in a classroom, you're probably not going to be a good agent."

"I hadn't thought of that," Lee admitted. "I think I've tried to erase the memories of what a hard time my trainers gave me back in the day." He tapped his fingers on the table. "But he was still a jerk about you calling in that Flash Priority."

"Oh now come on," she cajoled. "He had every right to be skeptical - you'd have been the same if it had been any other rookie in that class."

Lee gave off an annoyed grunt. "Yeah but-"

"No," Amanda interrupted him. "No yeah-buts. If I do things like that, how does that look to the rest of the class? What if one of them did something like that without having worked with you for three years? And it made him look bad in front of Billy - it's no wonder he was annoyed."

Lee gave another little grunt. "I suppose so. I guess if you're not mad at him, I don't really have the right to be."

"Exactly!" she beamed at him. "Just give him time - he'll find his place, just like you did."

"Maybe," he acknowledged. "I was lucky though - I needed a family even more than a job, and I found one with Andy and Harry and Billy."

"And Emily," Amanda interjected. "And T.P."

"Them too," Lee nodded. "And now you."

Amanda met his smile and reached to lace their fingers together on the tabletop. "We were both lucky."

"Yeah," he smiled. "I bet my uncle never thought he'd see the day when I was so settled down."

"Well, you say you're settled down but you still keep moving," she commented. Off his confused look, she added, "You've had so many different apartments since we met."

"Oh, well that's partly a bit of a security thing, but yeah, I guess I was restless when you met me, looking for something. Andy and I lived in the same place for years, but when he died, I couldn't find a reason to stay there."

"So is this home now?" asked Amanda, head tilted as she studied him.

"Yes and no," he agreed, picking up her fingers and playing with them, dimples deepening as he watched her blush. He waved his hand towards the rest of the apartment with his free hand. "I mean, I love this apartment but that's because it's _our_ place. You helped me find it, and decorate it… even when you're not here, I can look around and see you here. I am happy here in a way I never was in the last few places, I'm not so restless anymore."

"Oh, Lee."

The way she smiled at him then, eyes shining with love, made Lee's heart seize in his chest for just a moment and a memory floated up. "Do you remember when the Agency played possum that time, years ago?"

"Do you mean, do I remember the time we had to stop a nuclear bomb from flattening Washington? Yeah, I might recall a few details of that," Amanda teased him even though she was confused by the apparent change in subject.

"Do you remember that I was out of town when it happened and came to your house?"

Amanda nodded.

"That day…," he paused, trying to decide how to say this. "The mission I'd been on, it was hard on me, I got too involved and when I got back to DC and everything was gone, I lost it."

Amanda nodded. "You've talked about that case before, when we were in Paris."

Lee nodded. "The thing is, even back then, at that moment when I was at my lowest, trying to figure out what to do or where to go, that's when it hit me: 'Amanda's home'."

She tilted her head, trying to figure out where he was going with the story. "And I was. And very happy to see you too."

"Yes, you were, but that's not what I meant. I meant that even then, back when I was in denial about everything. I had to find _you_. There wasn't any reason to think you could help me with the fact that the Agency had disappeared out from under my feet, but I needed you because you were _home_ , you're my home... as long as you hadn't disappeared, I hadn't either. Am I making any sense?"

"I think so." Amanda's fingers tightened on his as her eyes began to blur with unshed tears. "It's like how I always feel safe when you're with me, no matter what."

"So, yes, this place is home, for now, but only when you're here, because wherever you are, Amanda, that's home." He paused and blushed slightly. " I guess that sounds hokey, doesn't it?"

Amanda got up from her chair and walked around the table to sit on his lap, arms draped around his neck. "I love you," she said, leaning in to kiss him.

"I love you too," he responded when she pulled back. "And that's why I'll always come back to you."

Amanda leaned in to give him another kiss. "Welcome home, Lee."


End file.
